Why I Started This Here Blog

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Julie and Julia. The film. That's why.

I was watching the movie earlier today and drinking hot chocolate, mentally preparing for the upcoming week of online school. At the moment, I'm convinced there's not much better than Amy Adams eating butter and Meryl Streep rocking pearls. Amy Adams (Julie) cooks and writes to alleviate workplace misery; I watch movies and write to... cope with?... social distancing. Also? Among the abundance of movies presenting unhealthy relationships and "bad boy" tropes, Julia and Paul Child's love story is a breath of fresh air.

In watching Julie's blogging story, I began to reevaluate mine. And then I begin to think about art in general, about why anyone bothers with thrusting a pieces of themselves into the world. It's a hassle. So I was wondering why anyone cares about leaving something behind, a splash of color, a pretty quote, a fingerprint.

Here's what I've decided, after two hot chocolates and approximately five minutes of avid contemplation.

Humans are optimistic by nature. Now, I know I'm young, and the world hasn't had enough time to sufficiently jade me. But hear me out. People insist on making art, on pouring their hearts and souls onto canvases and plates (hey, Julia) and websites. They invest hours and dollars and lifetimes into these pointless, essential pursuits. Art itself is the act of hoping for a tomorrow, and that tomorrow is about as certain as my getting an 'A' in math. In other words: it's promised to no one. Art is the conviction that there is something more to all of this than the monotonous drone of daily life, but also an embrace of the monotonous drone of life.

I think it's both a protest and a celebration, a question and an answer. Art's a paradox and it's complicated and I don't understand it. Art is pretty much the inanimate equivalent of the human teenager. Angsty, and maybe probably hormonal, and just generally perplexing.

People seem to like all things perplexing. Thus, our natural inclination to art.

So this is what I'm thinking about. In light of the current climate, I've been writing, reading, and drawing more than ever. Actors (hello again, Amy Adams) are reading children's books on social media. Broadway is streaming recordings of shows, Jimmy Fallon (and his daughters) are providing quality entertainment on YouTube (and, um, can I have a slide in my house, too?), artists are hosting free concerts. I mentioned the Italians once, and I will again; they're singing from the balconies. Some guy in my neighborhood is putting on a firework show pretty much every day; marvelous sentiment, but I'd prefer if the BANGs and POPs weren't scheduled for nine in the evening. India's applauding its health care workers with cheers.

In a time full of uncertainty and sadness, people are turning to art for comfort and solidarity. I just think that's kind of beautiful. Leaning on the ultimate expression of hope in order to build up hope; it's a pretty gorgeous idea, no?

So that's it, I suppose. That's why I write and cast my words into the void: because I'm hopeful, and I'm hoping to maybe help other people feel hopeful, too. Maybe it'll work. Maybe I'll miss the mark. Maybe Maybelline.

Take care, and try to hope. Just a little. And drink plenty of hot chocolate.

Love,
- Maya

P.S. I have gotten rather bored during these last few weeks, so I did the most obvious thing and... started a YouTube channel? Yippee for a sentence I never thought I'd say! Though I'm admittedly better at the writing than the speaking (or so 16 Personalities tells me - any fellow INFJs reading?), feel free to check it out here. Thank you bunches and blueberries.

Photo by Alina Grubnyak on Unsplash, Photo by Priscilla Du Preez on Unsplash
Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash, Photo by British Library on Unsplash

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